Best Friends
by Pagan Ianthe
Summary: Rose and Scorpius are best friends though it's possible that there is something more there, chemistry is an unreliable science when not monitored in clinical conditions.
1. Chapter 1

Title Best Friends

Rating: M

Disclaimer: These characters are not mine, they are the property of JK Rowling, Warner Bros, Bloomsbury and Scholastic.

Summary: Rose and Scorpius are best friends though it's possible that there is something more there, chemistry is an unreliable science when not monitored in clinical conditions.

Rose knew that she was considered the brainy one; in every interview _Quidditch Weekly_ printed they always made sure to mention that she had been top of her graduating class. Sometimes she felt as though they were determined to make it seem as though she only did this because she was rebelling against her mother's wishes or something, when it had absolutely nothing to do with anything but the fact that she loved to fly. The first time her dad had put her on a broom she had felt as though it might be possible for her to go high enough to touch the stars.

Her first three years at school she had been the model pupil, performing to the best of her abilities in class, never stepping a foot wrong, but in her fourth year everything had changed. Though the school Quidditch teams promoted equality, there weren't many female players on any of the four house teams, in Rose's fourth year she had gone out determined to become a Chaser for Ravenclaw, and she had made sure that nothing stood in the way of that ambition. Though she would never admit to it, the fact that her biggest competition on the pitch had suddenly, mysteriously, developed a minor form of Dragon Pox which had left him throwing up and itching almost constantly, was completely down to her skill with potions – and the fact that she had stolen several of the more volatile ingredients from the Potions' store room. Despite being sure her dad would admire her ingenuity, and the fact that she had done it all in the name of Quidditch, she knew that her mother would be furious and insist that she give up her place on the team – after all Quidditch might be fun but it would never earn her a good long-term career in the MoM.

School was now long over and for the last three years Rose had been a first string Chaser for the Chudley Cannons. Gone were the days when the Cannons were the laughing stock of the league, unable to even score against most of the other teams, now they were a team to be proud of – though Rose had grown up the daughter of their most loyal fan, in a house bedecked in their bright orange team colours – a championship winning team with determined players and even more determined coaches and owners.

It was the last match of the season, Cannons against Wasps, and sitting in the changing rooms, watching the microscopic specks of dust as they danced in the rays of sunlight pouring through one of the high windows, Rose felt uneasy. She absent-mindedly tied her shoe laces and pulled on her gloves, but still showed no signs of moving from the bench.

"Come on Weasley, the rest of the team's waiting for you," Scorpius stood in the doorway and yelled at the motionless girl, wondering what was keeping her from joining her team mates on the pitch for the pre-match lecture, a ritual that Eggleton was far too keen on and the players merely suffered through.

Rose had no idea what was wrong with her, perhaps it had been attending Lucy's wedding at the weekend, or perhaps it was the fact that at 23 she was just as lonely as she had been all through school. One thing she did know was that she was relieved she had accepted her place on the World Exhibition Tour. Perhaps what she really needed was to get away from London for a while, to escape all the old judgements and start looking at things from a new perspective.

"Weasley…You're wanted out on the pitch now. Not next week when you finish dreaming about creamy lace wedding dresses and other things that girls like you don't have a hope in hell of getting…" Scorpius pulled the door open a little wider and stalked into the room, agitation apparent in every step he took. "Did you hear me?"

Anger in every line of her body, Rose stood up and pushed him, enjoying his startled expression as he started to lose his balance. "Don't talk to me, Malfoy," she all but growled as she stormed out of the changing rooms and onto the sun-bathed pitch.

Following behind her at a distance, Scorpius couldn't help but admire her arse, and wonder what it might look when not covered in the unflattering bright orange of her uniform, and then hidden underneath the equally unflattering bright orange cape. For a few moments he allowed himself to day dream, but the moment vanished quickly when he realised that everyone was staring at him. "Malfoy, focus and get that stupid grin off your face," Eggleton ordered, before conjuring up a large white board and dicto-marker, his mind focused completely on the task at hand.

From under the protection of the sunglasses that he was forced to wear in such bright sunlight, Scorpius watched Rose Weasley as she interacted rather awkwardly with her team mates. She had never been much of a joiner – even at school – though she had always put in the effort she had never really seemed comfortable with other people, especially her peers. For the first few years that they had been at Hogwarts together Scorpius had merely considered her someone to be beaten in the class tables, but then in fourth year she had shown her true colours and he had been fascinated. Never fully able to shake off his father's warning about contact with the half-blood brainbox, he had watched her from a safe distance, growing more and more fascinated the longer his strange obsession continued.

When a fluke accident while playing stupid games in the Slytherin dorm had put paid to his dreams of professional Quidditch stardom, and an end to his popularity with the girls due to his star turn on the school House team, Scorpius had turned his attentions to healing and potions, though always with the intention of somehow applying these new skills to a sport he continued to love despite the fact he would never be able to play it again.

Standing with the team he had worked with since finishing his four year apprenticeship with St Mungo's Sports Injuries facility, Scorpius finally felt as though he was contributing something. Several of the players would have been out for this match were it not for his training and skill, including the ungrateful red-haired brat that was Rose Weasley!

Sitting on the bench closest to the pitch as the team warmed up in preparation for this last – and most important – match of the season, Scorpius' dark eyes were again drawn to Rose as she flew a complicated figure eight in the sky, her tanned, freckled face a picture of tranquillity tempered with concentration. He couldn't help feeling a little bit jealous. If not for some total stupidity and recklessness he would probably be up there right now, enjoying the sort of camaraderie that only came from spending so much time together. Sighing and rubbing his aching thigh, he continued to watch, wishing he had some idea why Rose Weasley held him in so much contempt, and why he continued to get so much pleasure from baiting her.

Laughing with the sheer joy of being in the air without the fear of bludgers being hit in her direction, Rose soared up to the clouds, ignoring the brief tight sensation in her chest, enjoying the feeling of the cold breeze lapping at her cheeks. Desperate for speed she hooked one foot underneath the brush of the broom and, with a little jump, sped towards the ground, pulling up only mere seconds before the tip of the broom would have pierced the mud.

"WEASLEY!" Eggleton roared her name as he came rushing out of his office. "MY OFFICE NOW!"

Jumping off her broom, and with a much lighter step than she had entered the arena, Rose placed her broom on the bench next to Scorpius and walked into Eggleton's office, closing the door quietly behind her. She had no doubt that he would ream her out for the stunt she had just pulled, but she felt so much better, her mind so much clearer for having done it, that any punishment would be worthwhile.

A little less cocky and more sedate after being yelled at for nearly half an hour, Rose walked out of Eggleton's office and slumped down on the bench next to Scorpius. "Go on then," she muttered, turning to study his profile.

"What?" he swallowed to moisten his suddenly dry mouth.

"Go on; tell me what an idiot I am or something. I know you're dying to," pulling off her protective head gear and tugging her hair back into a messy ponytail, she leaned back and stretched until her back made a satisfying popping noise.

Blinking back surprise at her hostility, he grabbed her by the wrist and tugged until she lost her balance and was forced to look at him. "Let's get this straight, Weasley. I couldn't care less what you do or where you do it – for all I give a shit you could fuck your latest toy on a broom in the middle of an exhibition match, as long as it didn't lose us the game – it only becomes my business when you get hurt!" Letting out a loud breath, he let go of her wrist and walked away, the only sign of his agitation being his clenched fists.

"Wow, I thought he didn't have a temper!"

Rose almost jumped out of her skin when Coral Bingley – another chaser – dropped her heavy leather gloves on the bench and then sat down beside them.

"Huh?" Rose was still startled. At school Malfoy had always glared at her, never saying anything, just glaring until she started feeling more than a little bit paranoid about everything that she did, but he had _never_ blown up at her like this.

"Malfoy. I thought that he was the epitome of gentlemanly manners and didn't even know that words such as 'fuck' existed!"

Raising an eyebrow in amusement as Coral tilted her head and continued to watch Scorpius as he made his way across the pitch, Rose responded, "He knows the words, probably better than most. You should have heard him last week after I cracked my head on the goal post. You'd have thought that I was the first person to go to him with a crack in their skull!"

"He's always the perfect gentleman around me…" Coral mused, studying her friend with a gleam of calculation in her eyes. "I'm going to ask him out!" Without waiting for Rose to say anything, and not giving herself time to reconsider, Coral stood up, straddled her broom and took off in the direction of the changing rooms, determined to catch up with their medic before he left for lunch.

Frustrated at the way that Scorpius had yelled at her, and even more frustrated at the inexplicable jealousy that had filled her when Coral mentioned asking him out, Rose decided to forego lunch in favour of more flying practice – not that she actually needed it, it was just a way to release the stress that had started to churn inside her.

She had been circling the stadium for over thirty minutes when she heard shouting coming from the direction of the changing rooms. Swooping down so that she could look in the small window above the lockers, she had to stifle a giggle with the back of her hand.

With a large white towel wrapped around his waist, his blond hair darkened by the water dripping from it, Scorpius Malfoy was yelling at Coral, who was blushing so profusely she looked as though she had been born with lobster genes. He was holding the towel on with one hand and pointing furiously in an attempt to emphasise his fury.

Wondering whether she should interfere on her friend's behalf, or just stay out of it – he did look really angry – Rose tipped her broom handle upwards and flew off in the direction of her bag, which she had dumped in the nosebleed seats upon arriving at the stadium.

Sitting down, her broom laid out almost reverently beside her, she opened her bag and took out her sandwiches and the play book that she carried with her wherever she went – just in case she got an idea for the 'perfect' play.

Rose was just tucking into the second half of her cheese and marmite sandwich (a combination her mum had introduced her to and her father and brother hated beyond reason) when she heard someone stomp up the stairs leading to her favourite lunch spot. She didn't even have to look up to realise who it was, the expensive, subtle aroma of his aftershave gave him away. "What do you want, Malfoy?" she mumbled around a mouthful of her lunch.

"I know it was you," he accused, standing in the way of the small amount of sunlight she had been enjoying.

"You know _what_ was me?" She asked, looking up at him, her expression curious.

"You told that little psycho to follow me into the shower and accost me," he glared at her, every inch of his body posture yelling 'livid'.

Stifling the giggle that threatened to escape her lips, Rose took another bite of her sandwich and continued to look at him, hoping that the smile on her face wasn't obvious.

"What the hell is your problem, Weasley? She followed me into the _shower_!" His voice and expression were equally horrified, but Rose just couldn't get the image of his 'virginal' mortification as Coral corralled him in the shower out of her head.

Swallowing another mouthful of the cheese and marmite down with a rather loud gulp, she continued to smirk at him in a manner that actually reminded her of his father the one time she had seen him at Kings Cross station when they were at school. "Are you accusing me of casting an _imperious_ or something on her?"

"If the shoe fits, Weasley…" he sat down on the bench next to her and started to look through her lunch box, finally settling on the thick slice of foil-wrapped shortbread that Rose had purloined from her grandmother's kitchen before practice. "I guess I'll just take this as payment."

"Put that back, I was saving that for after practice," she reached for the shortbread, but he held it away from her as he made a show of unwrapping it. "Bastard!"

Grinning with satisfaction, Scorpius finished unwrapping the biscuit and took a healthy bite out of it. "This is good, you really should have brought some for yourself," he stated as he chewed and swallowed then took another bite. "Though I am sure I could be persuaded to share given the right incentive."

"Whatever it is that you have in mind, Malfoy, you can just forget it." Scowling, Rose pushed the lid back down on her lunchbox and shoved the box back in her bag.

With that grin still on his lips, Scorpius pushed Rose's bag out of the way, slid across the bench until his knees were touching hers and then captured her lips in a kiss that would have been sweet had it been wanted. When his tongue touched her lips, pressing against them, Rose pulled away, her face flushed and her palm cracked against the cool skin of one pale cheek, the sound echoing across the stadium.

"Well I guess that showed me," Scorpius laughed as he cradled his reddened cheek in one hand. "Won't try that again when you've got both hands free."

"You wanker. You absolute wanker. How _dare_ you kiss me?" Horrified that she had actually felt a surge of warmth in the pit of her stomach when his lips had brushed against hers; Rose picked up her bag and her broom and rushed down the steps as though the hounds of hell were at her heels.


	2. Chapter 2

Title Best Friends

Rating: M

Disclaimer: These characters are not mine, they are the property of JK Rowling, Warner Bros, Bloomsbury and Scholastic.

Summary: Rose and Scorpius are best friends though it's possible that there is something more there, chemistry is an unreliable science when not monitored in clinical conditions.

Rose could hear the music as she apparated into the alleyway behind the house that Coral shared with two of their team mates. The music was all sultry heavy beats and wailing saxophones, accompanied by the sensual and suggestive tones of Emmaline Boardman. Taking a deep breath she walked through the small gated garden at the back of Coral's townhouse and right into the kitchen. A couple that Rose thought she might recognise, but she couldn't really tell, were sitting on the round table, partially clothed and very obviously oblivious to everything around them. The sickly sweet smell of pot filled the air and as she moved closer to the front of the house the music grew louder, the heavy bass making the floor shudder slightly beneath her feet.

"Rosie, you made it," Coral yelled as she pushed her way through the crowd filling the living room to overflowing. "Have a drink," she said as she handed her a plastic beaker and pushed her in the direction of a floating cask of beer.

Standing in the middle of the room, with the empty beaker in her hands, Rose watched as Coral made her way back to the man she had been busy with – her arms coiled around his thick neck and her lips clung to his. Smirking, and wondering when the snogging couple would make their way to somewhere more private to continue what was quickly becoming something more than 'casual' passion, Rose turned her attention to the beer.

"If she gets any closer to him I swear we are going to witness the conception of the next generation of Flints," the words were said with a chuckle, and Rose turned to smirk at her fellow observer.

"I do hope not, she's the best chaser we've got and we really don't need her getting knocked up before we go on tour!"

"Yep, that's you all over, Weasley! Thinking only of the sport," Scorpius took a large gulp of the drink in his hand and grinned at her over the rim of the glass. "One of these days you'll realise that there is more to life than Quidditch."

Opening her mouth to retort, she watched, frustrated, as he walked away from her, into the crowd, the top of his white-blond head still visible even as he walked through into the next room. Shrugging her shoulders, Rose headed off in the direction of the makeshift bar. Not a huge drinker, and preferring a chilled glass of good wine to the warm cheap beer that the Quidditch crowd favoured, Rose decided that she would have just one beer and then stick to the water that she knew was kept cold in the fridge.

Having poured what she planned on being her first and last beer, Rose walked through the house, saying hi to those that she recognised (and were in any fit state to recognise her) and waving absently to those who seemed familiar but she didn't really know to speak to. Finding a quiet corner where she could do what she did best – observe – Rose sat down, took a contemplative sip of what turned out to be extremely cheap (more so than was usual) and rather unpalatable beer, and set to watching the other partygoers as they danced, flirted and continued to drink themselves into oblivion.

"Why did you bother getting all dressed up and leaving the house?" Scorpius sat down next to her, shuffling as close to her as he could without crawling onto her lap to whisper in her ear – the only way to realistically be heard over the music that had been turned up to a volume that actually caused the walls and floor to shudder.

"What's it to you, Malfoy?" Rose responded, never looking away from the partiers. There were so many people in the small house that she was surprised they actually had room to move at all.

"I just don't like to see people suffering. It's the philanthropist in me!" He smirked as he finished the last of his beer and put the empty beaker on the nearby end table.

"Philanthropist?" Rose nearly choked on the laughter that bubbled up in her throat. "Have you actually looked that word up in the dictionary?"

"I am spending time with you, aren't I?" He studied her profile, and then shook his head as if to clear it of unwelcome thoughts. He had no idea why, but he was absolutely fascinated with her; Rose Weasley invaded his dreams and fantasies, and no matter how hard he tried, he was unable to get her out of his head.

"Why don't you go and find somewhere else to be a philanthropist? Perhaps find someone who might actually want your attention?" As much as she hated to admit it, the sensation of his hot breath against the curve of her neck was driving her to distraction.

"Ahh but they don't need my attention quite as much as you do," taking Rose's empty beaker from her hand he placed it beside his on the end table and then reached for her hand. "Why don't you just shut your over-active brain off for once and follow your instincts?"

She pulled her hand out of his grasp and stared at him furiously, her dark blue eyes narrowed when he continued to watch her, his own silver-blue eyes focused on her face. "Will you **stop** staring at me?" She felt incredibly uncomfortable being the focus of his attention, and wished he would find someone else to annoy.

Fighting back the desire to grin smugly, Scorpius rested a warm hand on one of her bare knees and squeezed lightly. He could see that she was desperate to slap his hand away, or just simply slap him, but she did neither of these things, instead apparently deciding to pretend that he wasn't anywhere in the vicinity.

"There she is," Coral yelled, dragging her partner of the moment after her, her gait was much more unsteady now than it had been when Rose had arrived. "There you are." She leaned over and tapped Rose on the cheek then staggered back to rest against Antony, giggling, "See, I tole you she wouldn't go home."

After pressing a drunken kiss to the rather more sober Antony's shoulder, she fixed her gaze on Rose, who fidgeted uncomfortably, "What're you doing sitting down? Drink! Dance!" She grabbed Rose by the wrist and dragged her from her chair – easily dislodging Scorpius' hand from her knee. "C'mon, Rosie, dance with me." Coral giggled again and, with a jerk, pulled Rose into an awkward dance.

"That girl's a spitfire!" Antony murmured as he continued to watch Coral gyrating on the dancefloor against a slightly more sedate and cautious Rose.

"I can only imagine," Scorpius muttered, his attention completely focused on Rose, wondering what would happen to the redhead if she actually allowed herself to lose a little bit of that vaunted control.

As the evening progressed the music got louder and the crowd on the impromptu dancefloor grew wilder. Scorpius stood to the side and watched Rose and Coral dancing together, their lithe bodies writhing against each others, giving the surrounding dancers the sort of show that normally they would have to pay for in an exclusive London club.

Swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat, Scorpius looked to his ex-schoolmate and smirked in a manner that his father would have been proud of, "What was in that last drink?"

Antony grinned smugly and, after taking a mouthful of his own beer replied, "Tequila, lime and some Weasley party mix that the Potter boy brought with him. He said it would liven things up."

Continuing to watch as Rose slid down Coral's body, until she was able to touch the floor, Scorpius clenched his fists when he noticed that several of Flint's less reputable friends were making their move towards the unwitting girls. Breathing deeply to control the temper he rarely let fly, Scorpius decided that enough was enough and stalked over to where Rose had started, again, to smooth her hands over Coral's denim-class arse, grabbing her rather firmly by the shoulders and tugging her away to the corner where she had – not long ago – been hiding, sober and obviously bored. "I think that you've given the boys enough of a show, don't you, Weasley?" he muttered against her neck when she leaned back against him, giggling drunkenly.

"You smell nice," she turned her head and, burying her face in the curve of his neck, took an obvious sniff, rubbing herself against him in a way that sent a shudder through his body.

"Stop that, Weasley..." he stifled a groan, attempting to hold her away from his rather obvious arousal, but failing admirably. "Rose, you're going to really regret this in the morning."

Wrapping an arm around her waist, he concentrated hard on the three D's and with a pop arrived in the quiet of his suite in Malfoy Manor. He was sure that Rose would pitch an absolute fit when she realised where they were, but glancing down at her he could see that wouldn't be an issue for a while, she was out for the count.

Carrying her with more care than she probably deserved at the moment, Scorpius walked across to the large bed that occupied centre-stage in his bedroom. He drew back the thick duvet and placed her on the mattress then used his wand to strip her of the dress she was wearing. He had no doubt that she wouldn't thank him for undressing her, but he didn't think the restrictive corseted bodice of the figure-flattering dress would be comfortable to sleep in. He couldn't help but admire the picture she presented lying on his bed wearing nothing more than a pair of comfortable-looking jersey-knit knickers – he was only male after all. Pulling the duvet up to cover her coral-tipped breasts, he stroked a finger down her cheek; it surprised him that she looked so peaceful asleep such a contrast to the red-headed force of nature she was when awake.

Settling down on the dark green chaise set into the bay window he wrapped a blanket around himself and stretched in the hopes that the single cup of warm beer and the workout his physiotherapist had instructed him to do on a daily basis would be enough to get him to sleep. He tried very hard to get comfortable, tossing and turning until his bad leg started to cramp.

After contemplating the possible consequences for a few moments, Scorpius stood up and walked over to the bed. He pulled off his clothes and threw them into the magical hamper which sent the garments to the laundry room instantly, then slipped under the covers, attempting to maintain as much space as possible between him and a very unaware Rose.

It felt like only moments, but in all likelihood it was a good few hours, later when Scorpius was woken from an incredibly pleasant dream by a horrified shriek in his ear. Rolling over and tamping down the smile that threatened to grace his face at the sight of a dishevelled Rose Weasley, Scorpius slowly sat up, "Morning Weasley. Sleep well?"

"Oh my _GOD!_" Rose shrieked again, barely restraining herself from hitting Scorpius with the pillow she was holding in front of her like a shield. "Please tell me we didn't..."

Wondering if perhaps he should allow her to believe something had happened between them, he smirked at her and settled back against the padded headboard. "Don't tell me you've forgotten it already, Weasley? You were so loud I was afraid the silencing charm would fail."

Barely holding on to her infamous temper, Rose glared at him as she left the bed and stalked across the bedroom. He was just able to make out what she was muttering under her breath as she searched through his open closet for something to cover her up. As she pulled one of his white dress shirts off the hanger she told him, her voice low and filled with anger; "we are _never_ going to mention this to anyone."

Feeling sick and refusing to acknowledge Scorpius for fear that she would burst into hysterical tears at the realisation that she had potentially ruined what was her best friendship over something that she couldn't even remember, Rose pulled on the dress shirt and then gathered up the rest of her clothes from the floor of his bedroom. "If you tell anyone I will kill you, Malfoy." She poked him in the chest as she made to exit the bedroom, her face flushed and the gold highlights in her wild red hair catching the sunlight filtering through the gaps in the curtains.

He wasn't sure what demon was driving him; but seeing her standing there, the anger making her even more vibrant than usual, Scorpius was unable to resist, he cradled her chin in one hand and tilted her face then lowered his lips to hers; she tasted of stale whisky and could have done with a breath mint but her lips were soft beneath his and Scorpius felt as though he had touched heaven.

Sucking in a shocked breath Rose found herself unable to resist when Scorpius wrapped his free arm around her waist and tugged her closer, pressing heated kisses to her neck and that sensitive spot just behind her ear. "Do you really think that you would forget something like this?" He asked her even as he was unbuttoning the shirt she had purloined from his wardrobe and guided her across the room to the bed. "I don't think that I would ever be able to forget anything that felt this good."

The touch of his air-chilled hands against her overheating skin was intoxicating, and Rose realised that he was right; there was no way that she would have been able to erase something so intoxicating from her memory no matter how drunk she was, it was perfect.


End file.
